Restored Symphony
by bendingmirrors
Summary: Bella spends every night dreaming. Each night the dream is different, but He is always the constant. What will happen when she starts to solve the mystery of these strange dreams? AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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So I make way for some chaos.  
The ripple on the surface sends me secrets,  
and I keep them.  
Like a reoccurring dream

**Max Planck by Something for Kate**

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I was skimming the surface between sleep and wakefulness, the ocean of repose rose and rose until it finally washed me into the calm waters of a deep sleep. The same sleep that had gripped me every night for the past few weeks. Stuck inside visions that felt far too real to be labeled mere dreams. I knew I was not awake, in the forefront of each of those 'dreams' was the knowledge that I was simply asleep, and my subconscious was displaying these fantastically detailed movies of lives that I longed to live. Lives in which I was constantly loved and honored by a man who's face remained out of sight.

That night's dream began in a forest. The dark green of the leaves on the trees surrounding us contrasted sharply with the deep magenta of the long silk ball gown I was wearing. The neckline of the dress kissed my collarbones, sweeping out along my shoulders to caress the top of my arms with a small flounce of fabric. The bodice of the gown cinching tightly to my waist, then flaring slightly down to the ground where a fishtail train swept behind me.

The Man was there. Tall, broad and lightly muscled under my hands, he guided me around the forest floor in a waltz to no accompaniment other than our own heartbeats. The feel of his crisp black tailored jacket felt so real in the palms of my hands, as did the grass beneath my bare feet. Inexplicably in a dream of such luxury my small feet were unprotected from the forest floor. I was not worried about it though, I knew that he would shield me from all harm, even as I did not know who 'he' was. Again and again I was frustrated by being unable to focus on his face. Each time I felt close to revealing his identity, I would find myself looking in an unexpected direction. He held me so tenderly, as though I was made of blown glass, drawing me so close that I could rest my head on the top of his chest.

I turned my face into his shoulder, smelling the rich, ripe scent of vanilla beans, warm caramel, and a slightly musky scent that I couldn't quite place. The succulence was overwhelming, I had smelled it before, the aroma was the reason for my addiction to heated caramel topping on plain vanilla ice cream. The very familiarity made me relax further into him; I was home, I was safe, and I was loved. The visceral pull of his scent wrapped me in an embrace every bit as toasty and strong as the arms that surrounded me and guided me around in whirling circles as we danced with abandon.

Gliding around the forest in his arms, he effortlessly maneuvered us around the trees, over rocks, and deep into the sheltering, forgiving green. I could feel his joy, and mine echoed it. We were celebrating, it was a big occasion but I was unsure what it was exactly. I knew that there were others around us, but no one was close enough to hear or see us, they were deliberately giving us privacy. My sister was there, but that didn't make sense, I didn't have a sister, I was an only child. But, somehow I knew deep in the fabric of my soul that my sister was there, and it came to me that we were celebrating her marriage. To a man who loved her just as deeply as mine loved me. The joyous occasion was touched by a small stain of unhappiness, for as glad as I was that my sister's dreams had all come true, mine would and could not.

I was still trying to make sense of this strange thought when I felt him press his soft, sweet lips to my forehead. He leaned a little closer as if to whisper in my ear but I could not hear him, the quiet whisper having been lost in the shrieking of an owl overhead. I looked up to follow the owl's trajectory, losing my balance in the giddiness accompanying the sudden movement of my head, and I suddenly found myself in what could only be described as a ballroom.

The room was lit by two large candle chandeliers. The walls were fashionably covered in elegant cream wallpaper decorated with soft blue flowers. A small group of musicians were located in a corner of the room, they did not appear to be professionals, rather they were other guests of the house. The joyful clamor of their music echoed the youthful exuberance on display on the hastily cleared dance floor. All around a sea of generic faces, nothing distinguishable about any of them, a disconcerting blur as though I were in need of glasses.

I was clothed in the most uncomfortable corset and dress arrangement. The feel of coarse material under my hands enforced the change in location. I stood to the side of the dance floor watching the couples dance their promenades. I was enjoying the view of someone who was close to me out dancing with a man who was considered a 'good catch.' I felt more comfortable watching the dancing than I should have felt being out on display in front of all the town's people.

She was radiant, the warm glow on her face reflected back at her by the man with whom she was dancing. As restrictive as the dances were, and as little as they were able to touch, they seemed to be moving as one, weaving around one another and the other dancers in a world solely their own. It was disconcerting that while I was able to see their faces, their expressions, and the warmth radiating from them, I was unable to retain any idea of the likeness of either of their faces, the very moment their faces turned away they were lost to me. It didn't seem fair that the face of one whose welfare I held so dear to my heart was lost to me as quickly as it was found. I couldn't understand why their faces were the only ones I could see clearly, but even those I couldn't retain.

A movement closer to me caught my attention, the scent wafting over to me, and I turned to see The Man again, dressed similarly in a formal suit. He was conversing with a third-party who was encouraging him to ask someone to dance, and I worried that the someone would be me by virtue of the fact that I was still standing here rather than dancing myself. Curiously, he remained faceless, however, this time I was treated to the warmed honey tones of his voice uttering the most biting words.

"_She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt _me_; and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.._."

The rage rose within me, that the man could be so full of his opinion of himself that he could speak so rudely in front of me. A conflict was building inside me; the self whom I inhabited in this dream found it rather amusing and was casting about for the best words to frame this tale for the edification of my sisters. But the me who knew I was still sleeping was about to launch into a tirade directly at him when a loud thump jolted me awake.

I woke to find myself upright in my bed, but having experienced this for seventeen nights in a row, I knew better than to attempt to go back to sleep. My heart was racing, and I could feel sweat raised on my brow, despite the chill of the early morning air. I turned to look at my nightstand to find that my alarm was set to go off in less than an hour; I would simply have to find something to occupy my time until I needed to prepare for the first day at my new job. I swung my legs out of the bed, and directly felt my left foot hit something hard and angular. Hopping off the bed, I retrieved the copy of Pride and Prejudice I had been reading before falling asleep, no doubt it's falling off the bed had been responsible for my startled awakening.

Perhaps the book was also the culprit for the strange location shift in the dream. That was the first time that I had heard the man speak to me after all, and I was almost certain that his words were the first of those uttered by Mr. Darcy. The voice sounded familiar though, I couldn't quite place it, and despite never having heard him speak in my dreams before I was certain that I knew that voice. Shaking my head to clear it of those thoughts I decided that I needed to stop reading that book.

Flicking the book open, I tracked down the neighborhood ball in which Darcy insults Lizzy, and found that they were his exact words. I had definitely been reading this book far too often.

I slipped my feet into my favorite warm slippers. Grabbing my robe from the foot of the bed, I swung it around my shoulders and shuffled out to the kitchen to start the coffee brewing. Even with such a jolt to start the morning I would still require a fair bit of caffeine in order to be semi-coherent by the time I was required at work. While waiting for the coffee to do its thing, I took the book and crammed it firmly into the bookcase, deciding that it would stay there for the foreseeable future. I knew I needed a new book for my bedside table and having decided that Ms. Austen should be relegated to the shelf, I had to choose another. Running my finger across the spines of several books that had failed to capture my interest, I came to a stop at a book I had purchased several months prior on the life of Lewis Carroll. I had yet to actually read the book, and was very interested in the new theories that had surfaced regarding his friendship with Alice Liddell and the circumstances surrounding the writing of Alice in Wonderland. I pulled the book from the bookcase and took it into my bedroom, placing it on the night stand in preparation for the coming evening.

This was a great opportunity, a fresh new apartment, a new job, a new life. My apartment was the first place that I could call my own. Well, the bank very definitely owned a lot of the apartment, but I felt certain that I could at least call the front door my own. Possibly even some of the hallway given the size of my deposit.

My small inheritance from the death of Nana Higginbotham had been expended wisely. Not only had it provided a sizable deposit on the cost of the apartment and paid my legal and moving costs, there had been some left over to replace the carpets and paint the apartment. Since the previous tenant had lived in here with animals, the flooring and walls had definitely shown signs of wear.

I wanted to put down roots in this small community that held such appeal for my father. I had hoped to truly get to know him now that I had the opportunity to see him for longer than two weeks over the summer. I was overjoyed at having a place where the length of my tenure was decided solely by me. My apartment could remain mine for as long or as little time as I wanted. No one could gainsay me on what color to paint the walls, and the soft cream color I chose felt both warm and friendly to me. Between purchasing my new home and performing some renovations on it I had met some lovely people, all more than welcoming, an encouraging sign that I had made the right choice.

The new school didn't seem to present too much of a challenge; after all, children are much the same wherever they are. I had met the principle at Forks High a few times over the last months as I made my decision to move to be near Dad. The school was everything I was hoping for, progressive, interested, and small enough for me to really get to know the students. I wanted to feel as though I was contributing, making a difference in my student's lives and I wasn't getting that in the big schools. I often felt as though I was simply a number, and that the students didn't feel any more valued than I did.

After everything fell through with Christopher I knew I needed to move. I was fast approaching my thirties, with no discernible relationship with my father. A rather checkered history with romantic relationships, and a mother who depended on me far too much. Knowing that something had to change, I took control of my life and started with my location.

For once, I had decided that where I lived would be my choice, not determined for me by the whims of my mother or her latest and greatest man. Phil had actually married her, but I still held very little hope of Renee settling down and enjoying life in Florida with him forever. I knew that sooner or later her itchy feet would set in, and she'd be off in pursuit of the next hobby, house, place, or person. Renee was not one to ever set down roots. Like a shark she had to keep moving to breathe. I had adapted and gone along with that life for long enough, it was time for me to try setting down my own roots and seeing how it worked for me.

The rich aromatic fragrance of the fresh brewed coffee brought me out of my musings long enough for me to grab a mug and pour myself a cup. Doctoring the coffee with lots of milk and sugar, I practically inhaled it and started again. First day in a new job, with all new classes of students taking English literature, required at least two mugs.

Once my second mug was fixed, I settled down at the table with a bowl of cereal and let my mind wander.

Charlie had been so overjoyed at the prospect of my coming to live in Forks that he had wasted no time in introducing me to the principal of Forks High. Michael Howard had been teaching for as long as I had been alive. A respected member of the local community as well as the teaching fraternity, it would be an honor to become a part of his teaching staff. Mr. Howard was a charming gentleman who ran the school with an iron fist. Even so, he retained a glimmer in his eye that suggested he was not averse to causing a few pranks himself back in the day. We had met informally at the start of the summer, after Charlie was convinced that I was determined to move close to him.

I thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon with Charlie and Michael, even if I was forced to fish with them in order to have their attention. An unconventional job interview, but then I wasn't formally interviewing for the position yet anyway. After spending a peaceful stretch of time with them both, stuck in a small boat with our lines languidly dangling in the water, Michael turned to me and informally offered me the position of the new English teacher.

"Bella, I'm going to be straight with you. I can't legitimately offer you the job yet as I haven't formally been notified of Mrs. Henderson's retirement. However, I do know that she's just biding her time, and the official round of interviews will have to be observed in a few weeks. There aren't many people who would even want to apply for the position out here, but I will have to run proper interviews, just make sure you show up to them." The glimmer in his eyes suggested that it would be less of an interview and more of a chance for me to see the school and find out the curriculum I should be teaching.

My return later in the summer yielded an official job offer, and after formally accepting, I took Charlie house hunting with me. I knew that I would like to stay here for awhile, but I wasn't really prepared to take on yard work so an apartment seemed like the best option. Being the chief of police Charlie knew what areas were safest, but I'm sure that proximity to his house, my job and the general condition of the apartment were also selling points for him.

"Bells, you will need to choose which one you want for yourself. These three are my top picks, as they all have something going for them, but it all comes down to personal preference of which one _you_ actually want to buy and set up." I could see the gleam that hadn't left his eyes still evident, more proof that I had made the right decision in choosing to move to Forks. Despite the cold and dreary weather I would make my home here, in a place where my family had lived for many years.

Choosing the apartment I would then live in was simple, after walking through the doors I knew. Despite the work that needed to be done; there was just something about the very walls of this place that made me think 'home.' I knew that I could be happy here, so I signed the contracts that afternoon and soon became a proud new homeowner.

Finishing my breakfast, I moved back to the kitchen to tidy up my dishes and the coffee maker, before heading for my bedroom to straighten the bed and gather my things for a quick shower. In my still not quite awake state, despite two mugs of coffee, I stumbled over a throw rug at the foot of my bed. As if in slow motion, I could see myself colliding with the wardrobe. In an attempt to prevent my head from meeting it's doors, I threw my hands out, slamming one into the door at an awkward angle instead.

The pain was instantaneous, threatening nausea and blurring my vision for a few brief moments with the unshed tears. I had hoped that I could leave my clumsiness behind me on the other side of the country; however, it appeared my luck would not run in that direction. Knowing from past experience that I had not broken it, I chose to ignore the aching and grabbed some clothes to take to the bathroom.

By the time I was ready for school my wrist was a little swollen, but nothing I couldn't deal with. I grabbed the bags I had prepared the night before, knowing that my first day would go much smoother if I was all set and ready to go before I even got up. Ensuring that everything I would need for the day was within, I set off downstairs towards my truck.

Mentally going through my classes for the day, I revised my options for the class I had originally set Jane Austen for. Considering the content of my dreams, I was banishing her from my classroom for the year. As perfect as her books were, I truly did not need them dogging me during the daytime as well as at night.

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**Huge thanks to Britpacksuccubus who is an amazing beta, a wonderful friend, and doesn't yell at me for my abuse of commas.**

**Thanks also to Nostalgicmiss for all the hand holding, cheer leading, and question asking that always prompts me to think of something else that needs to be added. And for the most wonderful banners ever!  
**

**Lastly (but certainly not leastly), thanks to Miztrezboo for prereading, word spotting and WCs with the Goonies.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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In our days we will say  
What our ghosts will say  
We gave the world what it saw fit  
And what'd we get?**  
****Resurrection Fern ~ Iron and Wine**

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That first day of school I arrived early, and made my way to the teacher's lounge where I reintroduced myself to Angela Weber.

"Hi, you're Angela right? You're teaching art and photography? We met at the hardware store a few weeks ago, I'm Bella." I hoped that she hadn't quite forgotten me yet, but I was well aware that the town gossip mills had been working overtime about the small town's police chief's daughter moving home.

"Right... Bella, I remember. How are you finding life in a small town? Is it everything that you were hoping for? All settled in yet?" she inquired. Her quiet humming voice making sure that I felt right at home.

"I'm getting there, one small home improvement project at a time. It's been a lot of hard work, but so rewarding. I can feel my small home really taking shape now, you know?" I truly hoped that I wasn't babbling too much for her. I had high hopes that we could form a friendship, but I was so rusty at reaching out to people, and the last days of my relationship had sapped the life out of me. I needed to start fresh here, making the effort with Angela and Ben might make all of the difference in my new life. I wanted to make sure that I could live here comfortably and part of that was a promise to myself, to at least make an effort to form bonds with the people in Forks.

"My offer stands you know, anytime you want or need to borrow Ben for any of your home improvement projects just ask, we're more or less a package deal anyway, so I'll come along to help out too! In any case, we're both in here way before the others will likely arrive for the first day back, would you like me to give you another tour of the school? I'll make sure to include all of the 'trouble spots' that I'm sure Mr. Howard left out when he took you through. We are a pretty small and quiet school, but we do have the occasional problem student, and there are areas that they tend to stick too, I'll make sure you know where they are." Angela began leading me off into the school as she spoke, and her insights into life here gave me hope that I hadn't misjudged the situation and that perhaps I was making my first Forks friend.

The school was relatively small, but built in much the same vein as every other school was in the 1950s. The only amenities that seemed to be modern were the sports facilities. It certainly appeared that the school had tried hard to maintain the buildings and grounds that were attached to its sports program. This surprised me as I hadn't pegged Michael as the sort of principal who would spend school funding in those areas. I figured there must be a reason for this, but it wasn't immediately apparent.

Not that the classrooms were outdated, they had been maintained well, but they were not modern. Perhaps there had been no real need or push from the area to keep the classrooms up-to-date with the latest technology. Not that I was complaining, the room that I would be using was freshly painted, the desks may have been old but they were in good condition and the boards available in the room were more than adequate. I would feel at home here in no time.

A quick detour into Angela's art room revealed an Aladdin's cave of wonders. Artwork was displayed on almost every available surface or wall. Sketches and watercolors that had obviously been done by previous students, both talented and untalented nudging shoulders and sharing wall space. Sculptures ranging from immensely detailed figurines down to lopsided vases were settled on benches and her desk, and in some cases hung from the ceiling on wires and string. The cheerfully chaotic feel of the room was both welcoming and open. She had vaguely pointed in the direction of the back of the room where the entrance to the darkroom was located, and I could see scores of photographs pinned to a large cork board on the back wall of the room. None of the pieces made an individual impact, they were simply presented en masse.

By the time Angela and I had made our way through the school with her very informative commentary, we needed to select seats back in the teacher's lounge for the morning meeting. This meeting turned out to be more or less the same as in every other school at the start of the year. It began with a welcome back from our fearless leader, then a quick rundown on which teachers had been assigned which extra-curricular activities, which duties we were to take on, and introductions of new staff members.

Introductions to larger groups of adults were never my forte. I would much prefer that the spotlight stayed far, far away from me. It was a necessary evil to be introduced to the faculty, so I put on a happy face, figuring that the longer I pretended it would be fine, the easier it actually would be.

Perception is often reality, and in this case I was so glad it was true. By the time I could resume my seat and the next agenda item came up, my face could have started a forest fire. Angela leaned towards me and whispered "Don't worry about it, Bella, they'll come up to meet you properly later, and no one can blame you for being overwhelmed by this. We've all been there too!"

Feeling much better for her cheering words, I listened attentively to Michael's last words to the staff, and then gathered my belongings to head back to my classroom and begin the work of setting it up. Facing a day full of teens, who would rather be anywhere than cooped up in a boring room after having had the freedom of summer, I tried to keep the classes light. Making sure that the students were aware of my requirements for passing, and that I would not be putting up with any stupidity.

Lunch rolled around quickly, and I practically fell into a seat next to Angela back in the lounge.

"You look like you need a rest, Bella. How are you finding it?" she asked as I slumped further in my seat, looking at the sandwich I had packed for lunch and trying to work out if I really did want to eat it.

"I forgot just how much the monsters take out of you after the summer break. I may never be the same again after this morning. How are you doing, Angela? Good classes so far?" I asked her, she still looked relatively fresh, and I was wondering how she managed that. Between a cat fight over who saw the new boy first in my second period class that I'd had to break up, and the juniors who were looking to coast through the year, I'd had my work cut out for me. I had known difficult students before, but the senior girls involved in the cat fight had taken the cake. I knew that kids like Jessica and Lauren would be trouble, but I was hoping to get them under control swiftly and quietly without disrupting the rest of my class. After their display of poor manners, I had separated them into the front row desks at either side of the room, as far from the boy whose attention they were seeking as possible.

"Ah, you're forgetting that I'm teaching art and photography, aren't you? They mostly enjoy my class, of course, there are some in there just to waste some time, but they get the message pretty quickly that I don't mess around. I'm guessing that they are a little more reluctant to sit in a classroom and read the classics?" She raised an eyebrow at the end, and I noticed her eyes were drawn to the wrist I had been rubbing.

"You would be guessing right. Of course, there are some kids who will more than make up for those other ones, but we'll see how the year goes." I reached for my sandwich and began eating as a bit of a distraction.

We ate in companionable silence for a while after that, enjoying each other's company while amusing ourselves with the other goings-on in the room. One of the office ladies seemed to have a pronounced crush on the coach, and was hovering over him as he ate at one of the other tables.

By the time we had finished eating our break was nearly over. I stashed my belongings back in my bag and balled up the trash both Angela and I had strewn around us on the table. When I stood and turned to throw out the trash, I caught my foot on the leg of the table, falling into it. It was one of those agonizingly slow moments, when you know you are about to make yourself look a fool in public. Conversely, while it seemed to take forever to fall towards the table, I barely had time to throw my hands out before I realized that the action would aggravate the knock I had already given my wrist.

I could feel my face flare as I immediately sat back down in my seat gripping my injured wrist. So much for a good first impression, after this display of my clumsiness, I was certain to be remembered for my lack of coordination. Angela fussed around me, asking me if I was alright, but all I could manage was a subtle nod. She quickly busied herself with grabbing our trash and throwing it out, seeing that I just needed a few moments to collect myself.

"Are you sure you're okay? You were already wincing before this stumble." She questioned me closely; it appeared that luck was on my side in one way, none of the other teachers had noticed my stumble.

"I'm sure. I just slipped this morning, which is nothing unusual for me. It's not broken, and more than likely it's just a sprain. Painful, but nothing that won't heal on its own. This probably didn't help, but I'm okay." I tried to set her mind at ease, I appreciated the concern, but I really didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing.

"You may be right, but wouldn't it be better to have it checked out? How about I take you up to the hospital? It would be better to know for sure that you haven't done too much damage." I could see the determination forming in her eyes, and knew that I wouldn't be able to put it off too much.

"Okay, okay, you win. I'll go up to the hospital, but not right now, I have classes for the rest of the afternoon and I'm trying to make a good impression on the students. I need their respect for the year ahead. It can wait until the end of the day, but you don't have to come with me." I asserted, sure that if I didn't then I would end up spending the rest of the afternoon waiting in the E.R. to be seen by a busy doctor whose advice would most likely be to ice my wrist and try not to use it too much.

"I know I don't have to come, silly, but I do want to help out if need be, so I'm coming with. Besides, won't you be bored sitting in that waiting room all by yourself?" Ang chuckled good-naturedly.

I could see that she wasn't going to let me go on my own, so I gave in graciously and we arranged to meet at her car after classes.

When the final bell rang my wrist was throbbing, and I was glad that I had allowed Ang to talk me into going to see the doctor, if for no other reason than I would gladly accept any pain relief they might offer. I sent a message to dad to let him know that I had probably sprained my wrist and was going to the hospital to have it looked at, knowing that if I didn't then I'd get a phone call tonight from him asking why he'd had to hear about it from one of the town gossips. Nothing was sacred in a town this size.

Angela was good company while we waited to be seen. Amusing me with anecdotes of life growing up in a small town, with each new person to appear in the waiting room she would share a snippet of their story. A little old man who was being allowed to leave the hospital moved past us, and she leaned closer to tell me that no one would sit near the man in their church as he was legendary for his flatulence. Small tales that I would have known if I had been allowed to grow up here with some semblance of normalcy. Sighing, I shifted in my seat trying to find a way to sit comfortably in these cold, hard plastic chairs. Giving up, I simply slumped and kept my eye on the door they were summoning people through.

When my name was finally called I had been about ready to leave, whether Angela was ready to go or not. Sitting in a cold waiting room was not exactly the way I wanted to unwind after my first day on the job in a new school. The nurse who ushered me through took further details of my injuries, and then settled me in an examination room, advising that the doctor would be along shortly.

The man who soon stepped into the small room was wearing a lab coat and a suit, and had a stethoscope hung around his neck, but that was the only resemblance he bore to a doctor. His strong features seemed more closely suited to a catwalk than on a man who was supposed to be tending to the walking wounded, and the manner he carried himself was markedly different to the doctors I had known; most of whom were slouched in some way, this man carried himself with the perfect posture of a dancer. His pale blond hair was neatly swept back from his face, framing almond shaped eyes, an aquiline nose and full lips. He was handsome, but not intimidatingly so, instead the smile he gave me made him seem open and accessible.

"Isabella Swan? I'm Doctor Cullen; you must be Charlie's daughter? He's been so excited about you moving to town, I'm so glad I was on duty when you came in. Which reminds me, what brings you to the emergency room after the first day of school?" His sparkling blue eyes searched my face as he spoke to me, almost as if he was looking for a sign of my injury on my face.

"I'm pretty sure I've just sprained my wrist, but Angela here wanted to make sure that it wasn't anything worse, and seeing as I fell on it again at lunch I agreed to come in." I smiled at him pointing to my left wrist, which by now was showing signs of swelling.

"Looks like it was a good thing she talked you into coming, I don't like the look of that swelling. What time did you say you injured this?" he inquired while gently examining my wrist and turning it, testing my range of motion. Eyes intense as he must have run through an internal checklist.

"The first time was just after breakfast this morning, so I think it was around 7:30, but then I tripped again at lunch. I put my hands out to stop my fall on the table and jarred it again. That was really only a couple of hours ago." I tried to lighten my tone, uncomfortable being subjected to such close scrutiny. Intense was about the only word I could use to describe Dr. Cullen, he looked at me in such a way that I felt as though he could see through me.

"You may be right about the sprain, but I want to get some x-rays done just to be on the safe side. In the meantime, I'll make sure that we get a cold pack in here to ice down your wrist. That swelling is looking a little painful..." As his voice trailed behind him, I could see that a couple of nurses had immediately appeared and began taking instructions from him. One of which reappeared shortly with the prescribed cold pack, and a wheelchair to take me through to the radiology department for the x-rays. Angela excused herself and told me she'd meet me out in the waiting room when it was all over.

The radiology department was obviously very quiet, as I didn't have to wait long to have the images taken, and was quickly back in the exam room with a cold pack on my wrist. I had been promised that the doctor would be back in as soon as he had checked the films.

I sat quietly for a while watching the goings-on in the department, trying not to disturb the ice pack. The nurses moved calmly and precisely from one room to the next, like a well choreographed ballet, wasting no energy as they spread calm and control throughout. The Emergency area didn't appear to be terribly busy, certainly I had been in much busier departments. However, there was a sameness about them, the cold burning smell of the disinfectant, frigid air conditioned temperatures, and the no-nonsense manner in which the nurses and doctors ferried themselves between one emergency and the next.

I had been so focused on absorbing my surroundings that it took me a few moments to register that Dr. Cullen was back in the room with me.

"Well, it appears your instincts were spot on. There's no break or fracture here, but judging by the swelling this is a pretty nasty sprain. Make sure that you keep icing your wrist regularly, and I'll make sure they fit you with a wrist brace to keep the movement down until the swelling subsides. Do you have any questions?" his eyebrow raised, and those deep blue eyes probed just as surely as his fingers had danced along my wrist earlier.

"No, I'm fine, by this time I'm an old hat at most of these minor injuries. I've even got a wrist brace at home somewhere, I'll be sure to dig it out once I get home." I smiled up at him, happy that he seemed ready to release me back into the wild world.

"In that case, it was a pleasure to meet you, Bella. I hope the next time we meet it's under more pleasant circumstances." He helped me up, ensuring that I was steady on my feet before he began to move out the door. He stopped just outside, then turned back towards me, "I'm so glad I was here to help you this time." He then continued on his way, coat flapping dramatically behind him as he left to attend to the next patient.

The words sounded strange and yet familiar to me, I had heard them before; someone had spoken those exact words to me before, with that exact inflection. It was the strongest sense of déjà vu I had ever experienced. His words, the searching looks that he gave me, and the manner in which he carried himself all contributed to the overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Shrugging it off as a flight of fancy, I headed out to find Angela.

As Angela collected her bags, I began making my way out to the hospital parking area. I burrowed, absentmindedly, through my bag for my phone, certain that at any moment I could expect a call from Charlie demanding to hear what was happening. Instead what I found was a very tall, fair, handsome man. His large frame had to be over six feet tall, he had sandy blond almost frizzy hair, eyes a strange aquamarine and a prominently broken nose. We bumped into each other, but I was lucky enough that his quick reflexes meant that he caught me instead of sending me tumbling to the ground for my third spill of the day.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking, I'm sure my dad's going to call me any second now, and I can't find anything in my bag." I tried to explain and apologize all at once.

He shrugged it off, "Don't stress about it. I'm fine, no harm, no foul in my book. And I wasn't paying a great deal of attention myself." He gestured to the phone in his hand, where he had been busily sending a text message.

"Looks like we're even then?"

"Sounds that way. Although, I do feel bad for almost bowling you over just as you're leaving the hospital. I'm glad I didn't accidentally send you back in there. I'm Riley, by the way." he announced, then looked at me expectantly.

"Oh, right. I'm sorry, I've forgotten my manners. I'm Bella. Thanks for catching me, I'm glad I didn't have to head right back in there again too." I blushed red, wishing I'd for once think about what was about to leave my mouth before it was actually out there.

"Hey, I'd like to make it up to you. Perhaps ..." he was cut off by my phone making its presence felt through the obnoxious ringtone I'd programmed simply so I could find the thing in the depths of my bag.

"Sorry, I'll have to take this, I'm sure it'll be Dad. He'll want to know that I'm okay. In a town this size, no doubt we'll bump into each other again." I turned from him to find Angela standing off to one side, evidently having tried to give us enough room to talk. Finally locating the phone, I flipped it open to answer it and started the walk towards the car. Turning back, it appeared that perhaps he had wanted to extend our encounter, but I didn't want to keep either Dad or Angela waiting, so I simply waved. After all, if there was one thing I had learned from Renee it was to leave them wanting more.

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A/N Huge thanks again to Britpacksuccubus who never yells at me for my abuse of commas, and my occasional lapses back to Aussie English :) Thanks also to Nostalgicmiss without whom I wouldn't have written a single word of this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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I touch the place where I'd find your face  
My finger in creases of distant dark places  
**Set fire to the third bar by Snow Patrol**

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I drove over to Charlie's as soon as Angela dropped me back to my car. The phone call had been short; he had wanted to assure himself that I was okay, and to make me promise I would come straight to his house. He would take care of dinner for the both of us.

Pulling up into the old driveway felt like coming home, peculiarly so, especially given I had never actually lived in this house. Short stays over summer really didn't count as living at Dad's place. And it was a home; for all that he was a bachelor, Dad had made more of this house than any I had grown up in. Charlie had made the best of his situation, had remade the dwelling to remove the traces of my mother imprinted upon it. He had formed out of its ashes a true haven into which he could welcome me each summer.

Dad must have been waiting to hear my car pull up the driveway, as he was out the door and half way to my car before I had pulled the keys from my ignition. I hadn't meant to worry him at all in this, and considered that I may have been doing us both a favor if I had simply said 'yes' when he asked if he could drive me to the emergency room. It had never occurred to me that Charlie might want to be my parent more than Renee ever had.

"Bells, you're okay? They gave you the all clear to drive and everything?" he asked as soon as he had helped me from the car.

"I'm fine, Dad. Just a sprain, I need to keep some ice on it, but it's going to be okay. So what have you made us for dinner?" I asked, hoping to distract him.

"I grilled up some fish that we caught on the weekend, and I threw some things together for a salad. I do listen to you on occasion." He chuckled; I had been at him over the last few weeks to add some greens into his diet. He did know how to take care of himself, after all, he had been doing just that for almost my whole life, but I still worried that he wasn't eating as well as he could.

We settled at the table that he'd set simply, a level of no-nonsense I felt most comfortable with. A trait I was certain I had inherited from dad; I never had understood Renee's determination to cover a table in more flowers and assorted decorations than utensils.

The small talk we engaged in over dinner was soothing in its newly established rhythm, discussions of small town policing, teaching, and how I was finding my way around Forks. I was so excited that I could discuss these things with him, finally knowing the places and people he referred to. I tried to help him clean up after our dinner, but he was determined that I should head into the front room and settle in front of the television, he would join me as soon as he had finished.

I was glad to sink into the sofa. When I had first laid eyes on the couch as a teen I had determined that dad must either be colorblind or completely uninterested in looks, but my mind had swiftly been changed by the first time I had actually taken a seat on it. The cushions were soft to the touch, and sank to just the right depth to cradle you in their warmth without making it impossible to get out of. The backrest was firm where it needed to be, and just as soft as the cushions in every other place. In short, it was the perfect sofa. You just needed to be able to look past its drab, pooh brown, boring exterior to see the hidden gem beneath.

Despite the terrible color of his sofa, the interior of the house was painted in a shade of cream. It managed to be both warm and welcoming, and served as a backdrop for the photos that he had chosen to hang. Photos of him and me during my summer visits, class shots of his academy days, and an odd assortment of black and white stills. Pictures of rusting farm equipment, old post fences, and objects down on First Beach, quiet tribute to a hobby very few knew about. This was the home in which I should have grown up, and I found myself becoming more and more resentful of Renee for stealing all of this from me.

All around me in Charlie's living room were the signs and symbols that this was his home. More photos were settled on the mantel of me in various stages of childhood and adolescence. There was also a large photo of us grinning into the camera at my college graduation ceremony. The same crinkling brown eyes on both of our faces, although eye and hair color was where the similarities ended. I shared Mom's heart-shaped face, Dad's strong features and square jaw did not figure prominently in my DNA.

Dad entered the room shortly after I had settled on some sort of sport. I was completely uninterested in what type of sport it was, or who was playing whom. I knew whatever it was would be something that he'd want to watch, so I'd stopped when I hit a sport that was actually moving, and not just commentator's discussing play-by-plays. The widescreen television in the room was the focus of attention, and the only thing in this house that screamed bachelor.

"Who did you get to see up at the hospital, Bells? We've got a new doc up there now, not that the others are slouches, but the new guy could have taken his pick of hospitals, and his wife wanted to move here." I had wondered how long it would take Dad to get back to the topic of my injury, but this seemed an innocuous enough query.

"I saw Doctor Cullen, he seemed nice. He certainly got me out of there fast enough, so he gets my vote for that alone."

"We're lucky to have Dr. Cullen here in such a small town. Don't you listen to any of the gossip, he's a great doctor, he could have worked at any of the big hospitals in the country, and I've heard that some of them were wooing him. He chose us, and we should be damn grateful that he did."

"I have no intention of listening to any gossip, Dad. I know, better than most, how little truth there often is under the surface."

"Sorry, Bells... " Dad paused; I could tell he was worried that he'd said more than he should have. But I knew that at some point we'd have to discuss all of my reasons for moving to Forks. "So how was the first day of school?" The look on his face as he asked was priceless, caught between laughing at the incongruity of asking his daughter about the first day of school, and genuine curiosity about how my first day on the job had gone. I was grateful that he wasn't ready to push the issue yet, it wasn't a topic I was ready to broach either.

"Great. The students are pretty much the same as any other high school kids anywhere in the country; Michael and the rest of his staff were very welcoming. Angela Weber was actually the one who convinced me to head up to the Emergency Room, she drove me up there and back."

"That Weber girl's a good egg. Although I suppose she's not so much a girl anymore though. You all grow up so fast." Charlie drifted off into his own little world at that. I realized that perhaps he had used the growth of the kids my age as a kind of measuring stick of my own growth through the years. In my consideration of all that I had missed out on, perhaps Dad felt that he had missed out on just as much. Seeing me for a couple of weeks every summer was surely no substitute for having been there and lived through it with me. Although I doubted very much that Dad would have appreciated having to deal with me through my adolescence.

"She seems lovely, Dad. I ran into her and Ben up at the hardware store while I was getting supplies a few weeks ago, it was nice to know someone I would be working with other than the boss." I flashed him a quick grin, it really was nice and, as great as it was that I knew Michael through Dad, it was far better to have met some of my colleagues.

Dad and I went on to discuss the other teachers that I'd met and my impressions of the school and town in general. Watching the warmth in Charlie's eyes as he spoke of the town and its people, I realized that here was a stability that I had never known. It wasn't just the home that I had missed out on; Dad himself was the very essence of a responsible adult. He was able to hold down a stable job, keep a roof over his head, the utilities running, and fashion a life outside of the one he had first envisioned for himself after it had all come tumbling down.

This was what Renee had robbed me of in her quest to find her own niche in life. The nomadic lifestyle where I managed to ghost my way through school without making true friends wasn't entirely her fault. My own reticence in the face of strangers was also to blame, but I still believed that given enough time to overcome this I would have been able to make some friends. Perhaps I would have been able to form proper relationships with men now if I had only learned then how to interact back then. When everyone else was learning the social mores of dating, I was fumbling my way through doorstopper novels, and ignoring the stares of those around me.

Renee's determination to follow her own path was something that I simultaneously admired and loathed. I would observe her chatting and laughing with new neighbors in every town we ever moved to, and would feel the paralyzing fear that these new people would see through me. That they would sense that I didn't know how to make easy conversation with them, that I was just another scared little girl. Meanwhile Renee's path would lead us straight out of the town just as I relaxed enough to start opening up to the people around us. I learned that there was simply no point in trying to form lasting attachments, as soon as they were made I would never see my friends again, we would move on to the next town, the next job, the next hobby, and the next man.

By the time we finished chatting and watching the game, it was quite late, and Dad was convinced that I should stay in my room at his house. I was just as determined that I should go home, the last thing I wanted was to wake up from these dreams to be completely disoriented by my surroundings as well as whatever portion of my nighttime world had awoken me.

"I'll be fine, it's just a couple of blocks. I haven't taken any strong painkillers, and I'll rest better in my own bed."

"Well, just make sure you take care driving home. Stay safe, Bells." Dad grumbled, conceding that I would head home whether he willed it or not.

"You too, Dad. I'll see you tomorrow." I popped up onto my toes to kiss his cheek, giving him an impulsive hug while I was at it. He was almost stiff, we had never been physically affectionate, but I wanted to reassure us both that I was okay. His stiffness eased, and he returned the embrace, enveloping me in his sandalwood and musk scent. A scent that pervaded the house, another puzzle piece of the whole that screamed home.

Releasing Dad, I carefully made my way down to my car. Not wanting to fall again and convince him that I truly needed to stay in his home tonight instead of making my way to my own. Closing myself into my car, I treasured the scent of him that clung to me.

The cool, clear night around me seemed to welcome me with open arms as I drove the short distance to my apartment. Parking in the spot reserved for my car underneath the building, I compulsively double-checked the locks on my door before conceding that they were locked and headed into the underground entrance to the apartments.

Eventually closing myself into my own little home, I felt a small release of tension that I hadn't realized I had been carrying. The burden of being 'on display' all day fell from me, as though I was shedding a heavy mantel or cloak. I settled my keys into their dish on the hall stand at the door, and dumped the rest of my bags, jewelry and shoes as I headed into the kitchen, certain that a cup of tea was what I really needed after the day's events. I chose to ignore the blinking answering machine light for the time being, instead opting to simply wait for the kettle to boil, and soothe myself with the motions of making the tea.

Settling my shiny new kettle on its base, I located my favorite cup and set about filling it with sugar and a teabag. Staring out the kitchen window into the dark, I felt a niggling tension at the base of my neck. Something wasn't quite right, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was that had me as jittery as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I was safe and secure in my own home, in a small town where I, by all rights, should have felt extremely safe seeing as my father was the chief of police.

The clacking sound that accompanied the kettle's boiling startled me from my inner musings, and I went through the motions while trying to sort through my feelings, trying to work out where exactly my sense of unease was coming from. Everything was in its place, the doors had been locked as expected, and there had been no lights out. All was as it should be, but I just didn't feel 'right'. I took the cup with me through to my bedroom, where I quickly changed into my pajamas, and curled up with my Lewis Carroll biography. I knew that the throbbing in my wrist was unlikely to allow me much sleep tonight, but I hoped that I would be sufficiently rested for school in the morning.

Finally deciding that I was not able to concentrate enough on the biography to justify staying up, I took my empty cup back to the kitchen. Then, turning lights out as I went, I settled myself back into my bed and attempted to get some sleep. Despite my worries I found myself sliding into slumber's embrace as easily as a diver slips through water.

The Man was there, the same as he had been in my dreams for years, but as had been the case for the last few weeks, these were vivid. Dancing through the forest in his arms, wearing ball gowns made of materials I had only read about. The sheer strength in his arms enough to keep me upright when I lost my footing. The dream shifted, I was still in his arms, but we were lying in a bed.

The crisp white linen sheets smelled of us. It was the wee hours of morning, but something kept me awake. The repetitive motion of his hand rubbing down my back from hairline to tailbone was soothing and rhythmic, occasionally he broke the pattern to smooth down my hair, but mostly it was the long, smooth line down my back with the whole of his hand. The soothing action was working its magic on him as well. He had been tense about something, there was some reason that we shouldn't have been locked together in this room, some reason we should not have been sharing this bed. I couldn't muster enough energy to care about those 'reasons'; I was in my beloved's arms. There were very few things that could upset me while I was there.

My head was resting on his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat an accompaniment to my contentment. He was here, he was mine, and I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. That would bring disaster though...

In the midst of that thought the hand on my neck tightened into a punishing grip. I was standing in the middle of a large grassy field, and the only light around was coming from the silvery full moon. The one who was crushing the back of my neck and head smelt overpoweringly of aniseed, a scent I had detested for as long as I could remember. It was strong enough to make me gag.

The Man was there, but he was on the other side of the field. Beside him was another man, who seemed vaguely familiar, I couldn't make out his face either, but something about the way that he carried himself nudged my memory. The grip tightened further, and the one who had hold of me began shouting at The Man. I couldn't understand their words, there was a terrible pain in my head that prevented me from hearing them properly.

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to wriggle free, anything to alleviate the pressure on the back of my head. When I opened them again I found myself running freely through waist high grass, the grass tickled my palms, and the lush scent of greenery surrounded me. Turning backwards, I continued to move, and giggled at the woman following me. It was a wonderfully sunny day, and we were trying to take advantage of the nice weather.

The lush green of the countryside formed the perfect backdrop for the impromptu celebration. Despite our good humor, there was a trace of darkness to the day. I knew that this was the last day I would be able to play in the sun with my sister. Tomorrow would bring new challenges for us both, but as sad as I was that we would no longer be able to play I was happy for my sister. Her life was moving forward, she was growing up and taking the next step. I turned to her to speak, but as she drew closer the view in front of me dissolved as though it was a painting being covered in gesso.

I slipped further into sleep, a restful sleep where I was no longer chased by either those I loved or those I feared. I could still hear voices as if from a great distance, but they didn't bother me, I was beginning to be used to hearing His voice as I slept. The comforting tenor lulled me further under, and I slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

**

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A/N **As always, extra special thank you's to Britpacksuccubus (who is not only a wonderful Beta, but a great friend) and Nostalgicmiss (who helps me plot, talks me down, and is another wonderful friend).


	4. Chapter 4

Drive with me  
Past the city and down to sea  
Crushing Dreams  
Leave me be, I cannot sleep  
Drown with me  
**Sea Song - Doves**

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**

The following day I woke refreshed. For the first time since the dreams had become so intense, it was my alarm clock that woke me, and not some part of the sleeping world. After another busy day at work; full of students who were still trying to make a good impression and those who were determined to work out just how far they could push the new teacher. I was adjusting quickly to the new school with its pacing and size.

By the time I was back in my own car I realized that I had not filled my fridge or cupboards. I had to do some grocery shopping if I wanted to eat something other than cereal for dinner tonight. I hadn't bothered to put together a shopping list, and was cursing quietly to myself for forgetting while I pulled into the lot attached to the store. If I had a list available I tended to stick to exactly what was on the list with no added extras, but aimless shopping for me was a minefield of chocolate biscuits begging to be brought home. Strengthening my resolve to shop responsibly, I grabbed a cart and set out to purchase only foods that I would be able to turn into good meals, things that I could also divide up and fill dad's freezer with as well.

Putting my purchases up on the conveyor belt took quite a bit of time, I hadn't taken into consideration my injured wrist when I decided to make this shopping trip last me for at least a week. I had begun to worry about my ability to transfer the items from the cart in their bags into my trunk without watching my cart run away from me into another car when a familiar head popped into my line of vision.

"Bella, isn't it?" he queried, obviously recognizing me as well. While I was certain that he was familiar I couldn't actually remember his name, I think he was the man that I'd so unceremoniously run into while trying to exit the hospital yesterday.

"Yes, it is. I'm so sorry, but I honestly can't remember your name." I smiled up at him, he was a handsome man, and I wished that I'd made a better first impression on him than slamming into him while trying to escape from the hospital.

"It's Riley. Looks like you might need a hand getting all of this out to your car? May I offer my assistance?" He looked at me with an open, earnest expression, resembling nothing so much as an over sized boy scout.

Just as I was about to respond, I was called back to the moment by the cashier requesting payment. I quickly settled the total with her, and turned back to find that Riley had loaded my parcels back into the cart while I had been making my payment.

"So where abouts have you parked your car, Bella? I might need a general direction to head off in."

"I'm just over there to the right of the entrance." I pointed to my little red Escort and walked with him towards the trunk of my car. Riley made fast work of getting all of my purchases stowed, then turned back to me.

"That should do it then. Maybe I should follow you home, so I can help you get these all inside when you get there?" His face seemed so open and caring, but we had really only met yesterday. I was a little uncertain about accepting so much help from a relative stranger. Just as I was about to tactfully decline his offer he spoke again.

"Actually, I'm sorry. I just realized the time, I really do have to grab a few things from the store and get to my sister's house in a rush. Will you be okay on your own?"

"I will be, and if I get stuck I could call Dad to come help me. Thanks so much for all of your help, I owe you one." I smiled up at him, he really had been in the right place at the right time. I hadn't considered how much assistance I really would need.

"Maybe I could get your phone number? We could go out for dinner sometime. Actually meet up on purpose?" The uncertainty was written large on his face as he made his request. I was a little wary, but I figured it was a small town and as long as I let Dad know where I was going, then one date with a Good Samaritan wouldn't be too much. How much could really go wrong when your Dad is the chief of police? Besides, there was something so open and honest in both his demeanor and carriage. I decided to take a small chance.

"Okay, sounds good to me." I reached into my bag to find a small notepad and pen to write my number down for him. My handwriting can be almost illegible when I'm not paying attention, so I made sure to pay special attention to putting my name and number down on the page. After ripping the page out, I hand it to him, and the expression on his face convinced me that I had done the right thing. He was still slightly uncertain, but for the most part looked like a small boy who has just been handed an unexpected treat.

"Thanks, Bella, I'll call you real soon and we can setup that dinner." With that, Riley ensured that everything was in the trunk, that it closed securely, and then set off across the lot to his own car. This really seemed like a positive step forward to actually making a life here in Forks, so I found myself humming along to the radio as I made my way home. I made the quick decision to call Dad as soon as I got there. There was no way that I'd be able to get all of my purchases up to my apartment without making a hundred trips up the stairs, and with the way my luck had been running lately it would be more likely that I'd wind up tumbling down the stairs on one of my many trips.

Dad was surprised to hear from me, but I could hear the pleasure in his voice that I was actually seeking out his help when I made my request. Within minutes he had made his way over, and made short work of getting everything up into my kitchen. To show my thanks in the best way that I knew how, I offered to cook dinner for us both, and while I was stirring a big pot of sauce to go with the fresh pasta I had planned, my phone rang.

"Hello?" I made it to the phone just before it diverted to voicemail, so I knew I sounded out of breath.

"Hey you. Sorry, didn't mean to catch you in the middle of something, I didn't want to mess you around, so I thought I'd be up front and ask you on that date now, rather than trying to be ridiculously cool and wait a certain amount of time." Riley's voice sounded a curious mix of eagerness and hope, but I appreciated that he wasn't going to make me wait days before he made use of the number he'd gotten off me this afternoon.

"Not a problem, Riley. I was just cooking dinner."

"In that case, I won't keep you long. I just wanted to see if you were free for dinner this Friday night? I thought I would pick you up around eight?" The earnest tension in his voice convinced me that this was the right thing to do. I would make sure Dad knew all the details of the date before we went out, it would all be fine.

"That sounds great, Riley, but where are we going? I don't do surprises." I made sure to keep my voice light, not knowing where we were going would be a deal breaker for me, but on the other hand I didn't want to scare him off either, a Friday night out sounded like it could be fun.

"I was thinking that I'd make reservations at that little Italian restaurant in Port Angeles. You do like Italian, don't you?"

"Italian sounds fantastic, I'll be ready then. This is going to sound a little strange; but, thanks for not playing games. I really appreciate that." I was looking forward to Friday night already, but knowing that this man was not a game player - well, that was priceless to me at the moment. The last thing I needed was another man who would play by a set of enigmatic rules that would always mean I would lose.

"That's really not me, Bella. I much prefer to be upfront, I think you get much further in life by being honest with people right from the start..." Riley's voice was soothing, and he continued to tell me more about himself and his ideals. He really seemed to be very concerned with making a good impression, but as far as I was concerned it was mission accomplished. He had helped me out of a tight spot that I hadn't even recognized I was backing myself into.

"Thanks Riley, I really do have to get going though. I don't want to burn dinner. I'll see you on Friday night."

"Definitely, I'll look forward to seeing you then, Bella. Have a great night." Riley then hung up, and I was faced with a curious expression on Dad's face.

"I met a nice guy at the hospital yesterday, and then he helped me get all of the groceries out to the car this afternoon. I gave him my phone number, and he's just asked me on a date for Friday night." I preempted the round of questions I was sure he was about to fire my way.

The raised eyebrow I knew very well. I hadn't quite given Dad enough details yet, so I continued: "Riley is taking me to an Italian restaurant in Port Angeles on Friday night at 8pm. I was going to share that with you as well." I raised my own eyebrow back at him, certain that he had caught the name at the start of that statement.

"Riley... I'm not sure I know that name. He might be new to the area as well. I might need to do some digging." The mischievous grin that appeared on Dad's face convinced me that he was really just teasing. I turned back to the kitchen, and finished preparing dinner for us both.

Dinner was a casual affair, and the rapport we had been developing made for an easy evening of banter and gossip. I had never realized that cops were bigger gossip mongers than little old ladies in sewing circles until I sat down to eat a meal with Dad. He knew the ins and outs of every family in the area, and while he rarely used names, it was usually pretty easy to tell who he was talking about simply by listening to what he didn't say.

Dad stayed to help clean the kitchen after dinner, and we quickly established a soothing rhythm through washing, drying and putting away. As soon as the last dish had been stowed, and the last cloth hung to dry, he kissed me on the cheek and headed for home. I double checked that everything was locked up, and got ready for bed.

I had myself almost convinced that I wouldn't sleep through the throbbing of my wrist, but was stubbornly determined not to take any more of the pain killers. For some reason, I was worried that they'd stop me from seeing The Man. Instead, I tossed and turned for a few hours before finally succumbing to sleep.

He was there again, arms wrapped around me in a warm, soft embrace. I could hear his voice, clear as a bell, the mellifluous tones surrounding me with words of love.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry I can't stay with you. You know I need to be hidden before the day breaks. But I'll return as soon as the sun sets and we'll head straight out to the party."

I was about to reply to him when the dream shifted again. I was glad that I hadn't had to watch him get out of our bed to leave me, it would have been too much to see that occur. Although, in some way, I knew that that was exactly what had happened. He had crawled from the bed, ensuring that I was completely covered in the warm blankets, before he threw his clothes on and then strode purposefully to the window, turning back to blow one last kiss at me before he launched himself out of the opening.

Instead, I found myself in the dark woods, back in the formal velvet gown that most haunted my dreams. It was later than it usually was, the moonlight had faded and we were in the darkened forest with a mist rising. I was not afraid though, I knew that he was with me. He had nothing to fear from these woods, and so by extension, neither did I. There was nothing that could harm us here, especially tonight, on such a joyous occasion.

I could hear my sister laughing and speaking with her new husband and his friend. They made quite the happy picture, and even in such a dark foreboding place I could not help but be ecstatic for her. It was slightly bittersweet though, I knew that this would mark our goodbyes.

It was not expected that they would remain close to the family estate, so I had always known that this goodbye would be extended. However, if my sister were marrying anyone other than the man her heart was set on, then I would be able to see her again at some point. Perhaps we may even have had children of similar ages and been able to enjoy family parties. But I knew that this marriage would mean I would never see her again.

His arms tightened around me. Spinning me into a dance that would distract me from my dark thoughts of loss and remind me that tonight was a celebration. We moved swiftly through the trees, over some obstacles, around others, all the while gracefully dancing our way back to Cassandra and Carlisle.

Cassandra and I had spent hours yesterday giggling over the thought of her new name. She had known that she would need to select a new one after, but hadn't yet come up with a name that she liked. We ran through the names of characters I had written, laughing over the thought of taking names like Catherine, Kitty or even Lizzie (which was far too close to her own middle name to be acceptable). In the end, we had decided that she should look further afield for her name. Something not English at all, perhaps a foreign name would be a reminder to her that she herself was different. We had parted then, with thoughts of foreign names, as we each retired to our own bed chambers to rest for the big secret event on the morrow.

As we swung back in view of them, we slowed to a halt. I could see that they were gathering their possessions in order to depart. I extracted myself from his embrace and ran to fling myself into my big sister's arms for the last time.

"Promise me that you won't forget me, Cassie? That you won't just go away and never think of us? We will never forget you here, and I won't let Mama and Papa say anything bad about your disappearance. I'll try my best to keep them calm."

"Oh my sweet Jane, I know that you will try. I will never, ever forget you, or our brothers. Keep entertaining everyone with your tales, one day you will see them in print. Of that I am certain. I will look for them every time I see a book for sale."

Our embrace grew so tight that I wondered whether they would ever be able to separate us. My thoughts and feelings finally as dark as the surrounding forest. Cassie pulled away first, turning to her new husband, he assisted her up into the carriage on the edge of the clearing, and they pulled away. Carlisle's friend drove the hackney, as Carlisle himself wrapped my sister in blankets for the cold, drafty trip through the night.

He turned me to face him, pulling me into his arms. I chanced a quick look toward his face, and while none of his other features stood out, the deep green of his eyes with their expression of bottomless compassion were finally visible to me. I melted into his chest, feeling colder and older simply by having my elder sister and protector leaving.

Realizing that we were finally alone together, I looked up to his face again. I pulled myself up on to my tiptoes in order to reach him, and softly pressed my lips to his.

In the strange way that dreams move and change, I went from the dizziness of kissing him to being laid out on his cloak. Our clothing had dissolved, we were still dancing, but this was a dance of a different sort. A slow moving dance of hands over silky skin, slowly warming under the pale light of the stars in the forest.

His delicate mouth against my own, then moving along my newly exposed chest. Our movements together causing such exquisite friction, building heat and love to a fevered pitch. The tinkling laugh I heard from a distance was of no real consequence, I knew that she would leave us alone, she knew better than to disrupt him. His temper was legendary. He shook his head, and redoubled his efforts. Bringing me closer and closer to the peak I was longing for.

I gasped for breath as I found myself back in my own bed. Sitting bolt upright, sweaty, and longing, surely the dream could have lasted just 30 seconds more. Then I noticed the alarm that was pealing from my bedside table. Never had I hated that appliance more. Slapping it off, I threw the covers back and prepared to face yet another day.

* * *

**A/N** - Thanks go to Britpacksuccubus and Nostalgicmiss for everything they do, and also to Kayla Cullen who is my validation beta.

A very quick note to you all - I'm just about to head off on a much anticipated holiday to the USA. I'll be gone for the next 6 weeks, so while I hope that I will have some internet access and be able to post and\or reply to you it may take me a little longer - sorry!


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